


Young and Reckless

by The_Problematic_Blender



Series: Young And Reckless - FAHC Backstories [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Backstory, Gen, Headcanon, Minor Character Death, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 02:31:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5273195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Problematic_Blender/pseuds/The_Problematic_Blender
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray left for Los Santos at 17, and it sure wasn't anything he expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Young and Reckless

**Author's Note:**

> FUCKING 420 GUYS
> 
> *AIRHORN SPAM*
> 
> WOoooooOOO

“You're young and reckless.” Ryan hissed at him, his hands still in a defensive position in front of him. Ray knew better.

“Because you’re the perfect example of control.” Ray shot back, one of Ryan's assault rifles in hand and aimed at Ryan.

All of this because he decided to leave Liberty City.

At the young age of seventeen, Ray knew that he wouldn't be able to handle an actual job, so he left his mother with half of his savings, saying he was going off to find what he was supposed to do. His mother said to call him one he finds a job, Ray promised he will, and then he was off.

Ray was a forgettable face, the generic young and reckless look that made you pity the parents that had to deal with his future for a single moment before carrying on with your day. Pair it with his quiet nature and you will forget he was even there. Ray used that to his advantage, sneaking onto buses and hitchhiking across states, no one ever remembering exact details besides “male, young, and minority.” And that's how Ray liked it. It was like being a ninja, except a lot less cool.

He found himself in Los Santos two weeks after, getting his first job since leaving Liberty City, bartending. Apparently no one was too worried about the clearly underaged bartender. He hated the job, but he had to get money somehow, and it payed surprisingly well.

Ray quickly learned that crime ruled the city, and he only had a pocket knife to protect him. He learned basic defense moves via YouTube, and was always careful to keep to the lit streets. He had some run ins with muggers, but they usually bail out after Ray takes out his knife.

Sadly, usually isn't always.

His boss needed some vodka for a special event, and sent Ray out to do so. The special vodka was in the office next door, only accessible by the alleyway. Ray gingerly did so, going out into the alleyway. He wasn't shocked to see someone loitering at the mouth of the alley, but Ray didn't engage. People get hurt by opening their mouth.

Ray looked for the correct key when he felt a presence behind him. He ignored it until the muzzle of a gun was pushed into his back. “Open the door and I won't shoot you dead.”

Ray was great at acting chill, it was his life's work. “Uh, dude, I'm at work right now.”

“Open it and get on the ground.”

“What one do you want me to do first?” Ray asks with a straight face, and the person behind him lets out a scoff.

“You're a smart kid, figure it out.” Another shove of the gun catches Ray off guard, the keys falling from his hands in shock.

“Shit, uh, I dropped the keys.” Ray says, turning his head slightly.

“Well pick them up.”

“How, like bending over?” An aggravated sigh.

“Yes, bend over-”

“Dude, I'm flattered and all, but I'm not really into you.” Ray smiles as he can practically hear his offender’s brain try to figure it out. He's quick about it though, and Ray falls to the ground due to a kick to the back of his knee.

“Pick. Them. Up.” He growls, and Ray complies, but quickly using his other hand to take out his pocket knife and flipping it out, stabbing his leg and quickly rolling out of the way, keys in tow. There is a hiss of pain from above him, and when Ray turns to see the damage done, the gun is pushed into his head. Ray looks up to finally see who was the perpetrator, and was kind of shocked.

His features were well defined, stubble starting to grow back after being shaven, probably a few days ago. His eyes were an icy blue, now gleaming with rage. His hair was rather long for a male, it pulled back into a golden ponytail. Ray stared defiantly back up at him, and his attackers lips turned up into an evil smirk.

“You have fire in you, kid.” He said. “Fire I hadn't seen in a long while. Be a shame to blow your brains out.”

“What?” Ray asks, caught off guard.

“Never seen someone that fights to the end, most don't even fight in the beginning.” He has a southern accent, one not native to Los Santos. “But, you could use some work.”

“What do you mean, work?” Ray asks.

“I mean, you could be doing something better in your life than serving drunks. Not morally better, but something that could pay more.”

“Stop being so damn cryptic.” Ray spats.

“I'm talking about crime.” He lets up on the gun, but the look in his eyes tells Ray not to do anything stupid. He joins Ray on the ground, sitting across from him. He pulls Ray's knife out of his leg and tosses it back to Ray, it landing on his right side. “You have a towel on you?”

Ray nods and takes the towel from his front apron. “Here.” The man takes it, and wraps the towel around his new injury, pushing a hand down onto the wound. He was applying pressure to stop the bleeding. Ray's mother did that when he broke a cup on accident and got cut with the glass on his foot.

“Now, I assume you're new here-”

“Yep.”

“Don't interrupt-”

“Too bad.” Ray meets his attacker's eyes, and he smiles slightly.

“You're a cocky one, aren't you?” He asks, but Ray doesn't respond. “What's your name?”

“What's yours?” Ray challenges. He looks at him, nay, through Ray, as if he is searching for his soul. Creepy.

“Ryan.” He says finally after several seconds.

“Ray.” Ray replies, and Ryan nods. “So, is that a no on the whole ‘killing me’ thing?”

“If you can pay attention, yes.” Ryan cautiously stands, testing his injury.

“Sounds like my teachers, except instead of killing me they failed me.” Ray takes his pocket knife, cringes a bit at the blood, and wipes it clean on the underside of his apron.

“Well, it's your life on the line, and I don't give two shits if you die or not.”

“Then why are you helping me? Are you even helping me? What are you doing to me?”

“You have skill, Ray. Skill that could be put to better use than stabbing a leg to make a getaway.” Ryan looks down at Ray, still sitting in the same spot where he had a gun to his head. “I'm going to teach you how to live in this town.”

-

With the promise of getting his head blown off if he does anything stupid, Ray follows Ryan back to somewhere. This seemed to be turning into Ray ending up being raped and murdered. He followed him to a house down the street, a nice little neighborhood that probably doesn't even know they have a murderer living among them. Ray follows the slightly limping man in, mumbling something about getting an actually bandage. Ray closes the door behind him and cautiously walks in, looking around.

Surprisingly, it was a normal looking house. Photos of cities on the wall, a few books on the coffee table, and plants scattered everywhere. Ray cautiously takes a seat on the couch, at the far end, and waits for Ryan to be done. It's one of the most awkward things he has ever done, I mean, parent teacher conferences were less awkward, and most of the time his mother couldn't make it, and he went instead.

“Like my place?” Ray jumps at his words, not hearing him come in. Now that Ray thinks about it, he didn't hear Ryan approach him in the alley. How the fuck did he do that?

“It's a lot less scary than I pictured it.” Ray replies honestly. “Now, what are you going to teach me?”

“I already told you, I am going to teach you how to live in this town.”

“For God's sake, dude. Stop being so fucking cryptic.”

“Alright.” He replies, pulling the gun that Ray totally saw from his belt. He turns safety off and aims behind him, shooting a discarded soda can point blank without even looking at it. “More or less.”

“What?”

“More or less, that is what I am going to be teaching you.”

“Well okay then.” Ray said, shuffling back slightly.

“What do you want to learn first, knife or gun?”

-

It had been about three months since that day in the alleyway, and has Ryan tried to cram every bit of information in his head. He learned everything from what parts of the body will cause death when injured to ways an unloaded gun could be dangerous to actually shooting a gun. He even taught him the quiet walk thing.

Three months, and Ray looked at Ryan from across the kitchen table. Ryan had given him a place to sleep in his house, and while he was grateful, it was also slightly terrifying.

“What?” Ryan asked when he noticed the staring.

“You know what.”

“I'm not teaching you to use a sniper rifle.”

“Why not?!”

“Because sniper rifles are hard to use.”

“It's a gun, Ryan.”

“It's a high precision gun, you need to learn how to calm yourself, you need to have steady hands, and you need to be quick.”

“How many times have you pointed a gun at me?” Ray asks, it had been countless now. “I never panicked.”

“You also don't think I'll shoot.”

“I know you'll shoot if you find a reason.’

“Okay then, what about the other two reasons?”

“I play video games.”

Ryan scoffs.

“Do you know how calm you need to be? Do you know you have to be watching at all times in case you miss something? Do you know that some actions must be completed in half a second or you fail the level?” Ray asks.”Because I do.”

Ryan looks over Ray and lets out a defeated sigh. “Fine, but I am only trying this once. If you can't do it, I'm not coming back to it.” Ray smiles and Ryan gets up. “Grab your shit.”

And that's how Ray ended up on a roof of an abandoned building with Ryan. Ryan handed him the sniper rifle, and with absolutely no explanation.

“Um?” Ray says, looking to Ryan.

“It's a gun, you used them before, it's basically the same as the others.” Ryan spat out.

“Jesus, who pissed in your Diet Coke?” Ray asks, observing the gun. It's a semi automatic, which means he won't need to reload the chamber, so that was nice. “Is it loaded?” Ryan doesn't answer, and Ray glares at Ryan before checking. It is, and Ray glares again. Ryan pretends not to notice. Ray turns the safety off and takes a deep breath, releasing it before taking aim. He decides on some poor kid's balloon, pulling the trigger and popping the balloon. Ray pulls back and looks at Ryan, and Ray sees the impressed look before he hides it.

“Do a hard one.” Ryan orders, and Ray smirks before leaning back in, carefully looking before seeing a small flower pot, aiming and pulling the trigger once more. The clay pot shatters once the bullet hits. “Maybe there is hope for you yet.”

“Hey-”

“Stay low to the ground.” Ryan orders. “It will be harder to hit you, if they can find you. Snipers are meant to be hidden in the shadows.”

“Like a ninja?”

“Is that why you like knifes and insisted on a sniper rifle?”

“Maybe.” Ryan shook his head.

“Let's try moving targets. Be low to the ground.” Ray repositioned himself so he was laying on his stomach, poking out above the ledge. “Aim for a coffee cup, but don't shoot anyone.” Ryan orders, and Ray nods. He watches carefully for someone with a cup, and sees a woman who's day is about to be ruined. He carefully watches the cup and takes the shot. The woman screams as her coffee practically explodes all over her.

“Sloppy.” Ryan comments, and Ray pulls back and looks at him. “Your breathing is all off. You need to fire once you completely exhale. Do not hold your breath, don't do it inhaling, don't do it exhaling.” Ray sighs and looks into the scope, waiting for Ryan to pick a target. “Bird on the vendor cart.” Ray doesn't even hesitate in aiming, he remembers where the cart is, and aims for the bird on the umbrella. Ray breathes in. Ray breathes out, and takes the shot.

“Holy shi-” Ryan says, and Ray pulls off the gun to see what he was talking about.

“What?”

“You shot the bird straight in the head.” Ryan says, and Ray looks to see the bird's brain blown all over the umbrella.

“Headshot.” Ray says, earning an eyeroll. “And you didn't want me to get behind a sniper rifle.”

“I'll admit, you do have some skill behind this. You never fired a sniper rifle before?”

“Nope.” Ray sits up, pulling the rifle with him and flicking the safety back on. “Sniping virgin.”

“Well, you're a natural.” Ryan says with the smallest hint of a smile. “Now, again, but with the dropped bottle on the sidewalk.”

-

Another month passes since Ray's first sniping on the roof and every day since Ryan wanted him working on it (excusing the week that Ryan made him work on speaking). Ray's in the middle of cleaning a magnum when Ryan comes in, yet again startling Ray.

“Fuck dude-”

“Come on.” Ryan says in his I will fucking stab you if you don't do what I say right now tone. Ray gets up and sets the gun down, slightly confused.

“What's going on?”

“I can't trust these idiots with anything.”

“What idiots?”  
L  
“I'm a boss in a crew, and I leave them on their own devices for a week and they practically burn down a warehouse.” He nearly growls.

“You sure you don't want to do this alone?” Ray asks, and Ryan shakes his head.

“It's time you learned how a crew works.” Ryan says. And Ray joins Ryan at the front door. “Maybe if you're lucky, I'll let you kill a man.” Even with all his training, Ray has yet to actually kill someone. The only time someone actually died is when Ryan was giving a lesson on torture. Boy was that a fun few lessons. Ray didn't really want to kill anyone unless it was out of defense. That was the whole really he had a knife in the beginning. In fact, the whole reason he was here is because he defended himself.

Ray never did bring back those keys.

Ryan moved annoyedly over to his car, and Ray followed gingerly, taking his spot in the passenger seat. He buckles his seatbelt and Ryan starts the car, pulling out of his driveway and angrily muttering as he drove. “Seatbelt.” Ray said. Ryan looked confused for a moment before realizing what Ray meant.

“You're killing me kid.” Ryan mutters, but pulls his seatbelt over him and buckles it with one hand, other firm on the wheel in possible rage. Ray had never seen Ryan this mad. Frustrated mostly, but never mad. Ray wonders what happened to make him this mad. Ryan continues to drive down to the harbor, and parks in front of a cluster of warehouses. He gets out and slams the door, making Ray flinch in his seat. Ray follows at a more leisurely pace, only rushed by Ryan’s glare. Ryan stood outside the middle warehouse, impatiently waiting for Ray to hurry up. When the younger man caught up to him, Ryan pulled out a key ring from his jeans pocket and angrily shoved one of the keys in the small, old door to the side of the warehouse. The door creaked open, and if Ray wasn't quick enough Ryan would've slammed it in Ray's face.

“He's here!” Someone yelled from the walkway above, and Ray could hear the noise of people moving quickly, as if they we're trying to escape something or someone. It was probably Ryan. Ryan moved quickly, a sheer determination overcoming him. Ray followed behind, keeping a close proximity this time. Ryan walked up to a man that was forcing himself to be calm, and pulled a gun, putting it to his jaw.

“Where is he?” Ryan growled.

“He skipped town, sir. We went to get him, but he was gone.” The person forced out. Ryan growled and shot him in the head without a second thought. Ray jumped back in surprise as Ryan turned, eyes on the second floor.

“Anyone who thinks that they can defy me today gets a bullet in their head.” Ryan told them, Ray noticed that they weren't looking at Ryan or even the fresh body.

They were looking at him.

“What are you doing? Let's go, you fucks!” Ryan yelled, making everyone scatter. Ryan sighed. “They can't be trusted to tie their own shoes.”

“What is this place?” Ray asked as people began to flow in, returning to work.

“It's my warehouse. I keep weapons, ammo, and drugs in here. Mostly selling and trading.” Ryan looks around the warehouse, his anger fading away.

“What do they do here?” Ray asks.

“Take stock and establish trades.” Ryan answers. “Well, the smart ones establish trades.”

“Uh, sir?” Someone asks, and Ryan turns to look at the person who approached. “There were some rats that snuck in, and we kept them in the cellar for you to decide-”

“Bring them up.” The man nods and scampers away. Ryan has this air of authority around him, well, he usually does, but here it was more prominent. It was practically suffocating.

“Let me guess, rats aren't actually furry rodents.” Ray says.

“Nope.” Ryan confirms, handing Ray his gun. “And you're going to kill them.”

“What?”

“You can shoot, but you need to prove that you can kill.” Ryan says, and Ray looks at the gun. It's a 9mm pistol. Ray looks back at Ryan. “Are you afraid to kill?”

“No, no, I can do it.” Ray assures, but who, Ray can't tell. Ray shuffles nervously before he notices people's looks lingering. No doubt someone heard about the rats and told the others, and now they were waiting for the bloodshed.

“Here they are.” The same person from before said, dragging two people along. Their hands were tied with rope at the wrist, the burns from it already forming. Except something was wrong.

“Ryan, they're my age.” Ray says, looking at the two rats.

“Rats come in all ages.” Ryan remarks, showing no sympathy towards Ray.

“Sir, are you really going to let him kill the rats?” The man asks, and a questioning look Ryan gives.

“Why not? Have you no faith?” Ryan asks, and the man begins to panic.

“No, no no no, he just seems too… young.”

“Hey!” Ray interjects. “I'm almost eighteen!”

“He can do it just fine, can't you Ray?” Ryan asks Ray.

“Uh, yeah.” Ray says, “I can do it.” Ryan puts a hand on Ray's shoulder. Ray feels immensely uncomfortable in the middle of the tension.

“Alright sir.” He takes the two rats and sets them kneeling on the ground. One guy and one girl. They look like siblings, same bright red hair and freckles, blazing green eyes. The guy looks defiantly at Ray, while the girl refuses to look anywhere but the floor and looks like she is biting her tongue. “Whenever you're ready.”

Ray approaches the guy first. He keeps eye contact with Ray, and Ray puts the pistol to his head. Ray can't pull the trigger though. He was defenseless, they both were. Before he can pull away though, the guy smirks, and a leg kicks out and pulls Ray's leg out from underneath him.

Ray falls to the ground, and Ray has a single second to catch his breath before the guy headbutts him hard. Ray is quick to react though, pushing his neck out of the way, hard enough to force him onto his back. He doesn't hesitate to pull the trigger, and immediately after he does there is someone on his back and a knife at his throat. Ray aims behind him and fires, and silently thanks someone that the person behind him goes limp. Ray shoves them off his back and staggers back up on his feet.

“What did I tell you?” Ray is surprised at Ryan's voice in his not-ringing ear. He had forgotten he was here, he had forgotten everything was here. And he had definitely forgotten about the crowd that gathered. He noticed them when he heard a quiet exclamation, and looked to the workers that had watched him.

“He didn't even miss.”

“They were his own age.”

“Truly another monster.”

“He could of escaped this, had a good life.”

Ryan was saying something, but Ray wasn't listening. Another monster? What had they meant? He killed out of self defense. Ray looks at the ground where the the two siblings now laid, and saw that the girl broke free oh her restraint with a hidden knife. He killed out of self defense, anyone could see that. Ray felt a hand on his shoulder, and he turned to face Ryan. “You okay?” He asked.

“My ears are ringing.” Ray replied, raising his voice. It wasn't a total lie, but right now it seemed easier to lie and have the topic dropped. Ray looks down at his shoes and Ryan hardens his grip on Ray's shoulder, causing him to flinch and look up again.

“You did good.” Ryan says, his own voice raised for Ray. Ray nods. “Let's go get you patched up.”

Ryan takes Ray to the “medic bay,” and found out that it was ran by a more older man, older than anyone else in the warehouse. Ryan drops him off, saying he had things to attend to, and Ray was waiting in silence, a bandage on his neck because of a small cut from the knife that was at his neck. That was all he needed, and now he sat on a cot, waiting for Ryan. The medic came by, and Ray said something before he could bite his tongue:

“Why did they call me a monster?”

“What?” The medic asks, confused on what Ray was referring.

“One of the people in the crowd called me ‘another monster.’ ” The medic froze at his words.

“You're messing with Pandora’s box, kid.”

“Curiosity killed the cat.” Ray replied.

“Precisely.” The medic says, moving away.

“Good thing I'm not a cat.” Ray continued, and the medic let out an annoyed sigh and returns to the side of the cot.

“You ever heard of the Vagabond?”

“I know Ryan is the Vagabond.” Ray answers, and it surprises the medic. “Figured it out after a week.”

“Oh.” The medic replies, surprised. “Most people don't usually draw the lines.”

“Most people?” Ray echos.

“Do you think you're the first?” The medic asks. Ray doesn't answer, and the medic doesn't continue.

“What does he do?”

“Use you.” The medic replies. “Trains you, uses you as a forefront, and then abandons you when you need him. I've seen it too many times.”

“I killed out of self defence.” Ray brings up.

“This time, maybe, but stay with him and it won't be that way for long.”

“What do I do?”

“Skip town.” The medic answers simply. “Avoid any confrontation with him. He will make you regret it, he's young and reckless.” Ray looks down at his knees, and the medic lingers awhile before leaving Ray on his own. Ray didn't know what to do. He didn't have a job, or a place to stay other than with Ryan. Maybe this was all a lie, maybe this was-

“Ray.” Ray jumps at Ryan's voice, hitting his head on the wall.

“Christ dude!” Ray exclaims. “Scare me half to death, will you?”

“Sorry.” Ryan replies, a small grin revealing his lie about the sympathy. “Wanna go get something to eat?”

“Sure.” Ray says, pushing himself off the cot and onto his feet. He sure has hell to think about while eating.

After the too quiet and too tense dinner, Ryan drives them both home, and Ray mumbles something about having a headache and retreats into his room. Ray didn't know what “abandons when you need him” exactly meant, but Ray refuses to die because of this man.

Ray doesn't have too many belongings-most of them being in Liberty City- and it was easy to shove his things into his pocket and be done. One last look around his room and he notices the assault rifle he was supposed to put away. It wasn't the sniper rifle he got so acclimated to, but he can still use it fairly well. He decides to take it with him, Ryan probably wouldn't miss it. Ray goes to the window and opens it, popping the screen out. Before he can go out the window, he hears a “leaving already?”

Ray turns to face Ryan, armed with the assault rifle. “Fuck off.” Ray growls, and Ryan raises his hands.

“What are you going to do? Run off and fend for your own?” Ryan asks. “You think you can make it out there?”

“I can make it just fine.” Ray spats.

“Oh really? A child like you?”

“I'm not a child.”

“You're young and reckless.” Ryan hissed at him, his hands still in a defensive position in front of him. Ray knew better.

“Because you’re the perfect example of control.” Ray shot back, one of Ryan's assault rifles in hand and aimed at Ryan. “You always heat up when something goes wrong, you get aggressive, you get trigger happy.”

“I'd admit, I have flaws, but I have more experience.” Ryan says with a smile. Ray wants to shoot that smile off.

“I'm not going to be a fucking animal for you.”

“So what? You're going to shoot me? I'm just a defenseless creature.” 

Ray looks Ryan in the eye, growls “Defenseless my fucking ass” and pulls the trigger, his aim providing that he just barely misses Ryan’s shoulder. And to much of Ray's surprise, Ryan does something he has never done before.

Ryan flinches.

Finger still resting on the trigger, Ray recovers from the surprise of Ryan's scared movement. “I am going to go, and I am going to take this gun with me. If you try to follow me or find me, I promise there is a bullet in your skull.”

“You're going to die out there.” Ryan states, composure regained.

“Better than at your hands.” Ray retorts, taking a step closer to the window. Ray thinks for a moment before acting, shooting Ryan in the leg. Ryan cripples to the ground and Ray turns, jumps out the window and runs into the city.

-

It had been a few weeks since his confrontation with Ryan, and Ray was back where he started. He got his job back at the bar after convincing his boss that he got kidnapped (and giving the keys back. Mainly the keys). He ended up working often and sleeping in a car that he is borrowing without the owner knowing. He worked every night he could, determined to get some money and possibly leave the hell hole of the town.

One night he was working, two guys came in, one impossibly under the legal drinking age (who Ray found out was just a year and a couple months older than him, at 19) and another at his early thirties. Ray absentmindedly eavesdropped over the two's conversation while working.

“It's a five man job, Gav, we can't do this.”

“Can we figure out how to get it down to four?”

“Us looking at this for hours isn't helping jack-shit. It's a five man heist or a different one altogether.”

“Why do we need five men anyway?”

“We need someone laying suppressing fire so we can get out of there, otherwise we have to drive through fifty cops and their squad cars.”

“Y'know, what you need is a sniper.” Ray interjects, being sure to be as polite as possible. The two look up from their map. “Someone on a rooftop shooting down below. Thankfully, I know of one.”

“Is it you?” The younger one asks, not exactly kind sounding. Though that make just be his accent.

“Yep.” Ray replies, smiling kindly.

“That could actually work.” The older man says. “And if we position him across the street from the bank, the cops would be facing away from him. You any good.”

“Please, I can headshot without even trying.” Ray replies, and the older man smiles.

“Gavin?” The younger man looks Ray over.

“If he can do it, I say why not.” He, Gavin, replies.

“Consider yourself on the job.” The older man replies. “Congratulations on a job with the Fake AH Crew.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for 420 followers!


End file.
